


Day 8 — “AU”

by rad_twister



Series: Blizzard In July 2020 [4]
Category: Lego Ninjago
Genre: Accidental Plot, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Archaeology, Blizzard In July, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Dragons, Elemental Magic, Frostbite, Healing, Hypothermia, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Out of Character, Self-Worth Issues, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25065391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rad_twister/pseuds/rad_twister
Summary: Day 8 of Blizzard In July! | Determined to prove his worth, one young field technician searches for the fabled tomb of a long lost king who single-handedly rose his equally lost empire to greatness. To find his burial site would win Morro fame and respect throughout the archaeology community, and prove all those who didn't believe in him that they were WRONG. Nothing is impossible!Unfortunately, he wasn't prepared for a storm to strike him out of nowhere. It's too late to turn back, now...
Relationships: Morro/Zane (Ninjago)
Series: Blizzard In July 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1811917
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> deity AUs are best AUs
> 
> also: can i truly say i'm participating in a blizzard event without including at LEAST one dangerous snowstorm for my favorite character to nearly die in?? lmao
> 
> warnings:  
> \- some cussing  
> \- mind the tags! i'm not kidding when i say "near death experience".

Sunlight shone through the dusty window, illuminating the room. A map was spread across an old oak table, tacks pinning its corners to keep it from fluttering in the summer breeze. Words scribbled hastily in pencil filled sticky notes with information, ideas, leads. Encyclopedias, books, memoirs, dictionaries, albums full of photos new and old; most bookmarked to pages with margins full of graphite, some open, some closed and stacked for later reference.

Not that they’d be needed anymore, because the map had the most important mark on it. Green ink circled a location—the coordinates Morro had been searching for ever since he’d heard of what could very well be the holy grail of burial sites, way back in high school as he sat in History and listened to his teacher/adoptive father drone on and on. As soon as the words fell from Wu’s mouth, Morro knew what he wanted to do when he grew up. 

Nobody, not one person in the past 7,000 years had been able to find the tomb.

The professor teaching the archaeology course told him he wouldn’t be able to find it. “It’s a fairy tale,” she had said, peering down through her circular wire glasses. She didn’t say it, but he could practically hear her thinking it: _‘What does one bratty aspiring field technician have that’ll make it different this time? Just give up now.’_

Give up? He could _never_ do that. In that moment, Morro decided that he was going to find the tomb, no matter what. 

And he _had_ found it. This was his chance to show them all, once he came back from this adventure holding ancient relics and photographs that proved the tomb’s existence. And yes, he’d go the trip alone. This was his discovery—he didn’t want anyone else messing it up or trying to take a smidgen of credit! 

That morning, Morro packed his bags. He was long gone from the city by lunchtime, leaving only a short handwritten note on his apartment’s front door that he’d be gone for an indeterminate amount of time. 

—

He booked a spot in a quaint hotel, and after a seven hours’ flight was exhausted. Morro trudged up to his room and jumped onto the bed, pulling out his phone and fighting to keep his eyes open. Social media wasn’t really his thing, but he was keeping a hobbyist photography account. No private ones, just that one. Still, his inbox was full of messages from friends, associates, his employer, and his dad. 

**Where are you?** 11:27 A.M.

 **I hope you’re safe. Please** **  
****let me know as soon as** **  
****possible if you need help.** 12:09

The aspiring archaeologist huffed. “All these years, and Wu _still_ doesn’t trust me.”

He changed his settings to Do Not Disturb and rolled over, playing a few games on his phone until sleep overcame him. 

—

Early bird gets the… fame? 

Well, Morro woke up early and wandered the streets of the town, taking in the scenery as he looked for a place to get breakfast. The place was strangely busy for such a small population. It must get lots of tourists. Lucky them! 

He walked into a cozy family-owned restaurant, and sat down at a table by the front windows. Sipping hot coffee, Morro watched as banners were put up in the streets, and garlands of delicate white flowers were hung on the doorways and around windows. Hmm. Something’s going on. 

When a teen girl came up to take his order—for a second he wondered why she wasn’t in school, before remembering it was Saturday—he put off ordering for just a minute to ask about the banners and flowers.

“Oh, those?” She looked out the window, smiling pleasantly. “Tonight is the first night of a week-long celebration. Midsummer, y’know. I don’t really believe in the nature gods, but some of the older people here do—and besides, it’s not like it’s bothering anyone. I’m actually really surprised you don’t know about this! Our biannual celebrations are what reel in most of the tourists. Feasts, dance, fireworks, all that cool stuff. I’m really looking forward to it! You’re lucky you got in here,” she gestured around the restaurant, “when you did. We’re closing for the next week to celebrate.”

Morro nodded his understanding. “Interesting. Now that I think about it, I do remember reading something about the festival, but I didn’t really pay attention. You’re right about your assumption: I’m not here for that. I’m actually an archaeologist. Did you know that on the other side of the nearby mountain range there’s something incredible? It’s the tomb of a king from thousands of years ago. I’ve been searching for it for years.”

She lit up at the sound of that. “Really? That sounds so cool! Congrats on finding it! When you’re back from whatever it is that archaeologists do at sites, please show me what you found! I bet there are so many cool treasures there.”

“Promise.” He took another sip of the coffee, the thought occurring to him that he very well may stumble onto priceless artefacts in there, and that he’d need to contact museums to house them. Would it be illegal to keep any for himself? He set the coffee mug down. “Now… could I get the hash-browns?”

After a satisfying breakfast, he returned to his hotel room to prepare for a long journey. First he’d have to cross that small mountain range, and somewhere on the other side was a large body of water. It made sense why nobody had been able to find the tomb. It was _underwater_! Who would’ve thought to look there? How did such an ancient civilization even manage that? Unless there was some sort of terrible earthquake that caused the area to sink—which there weren’t any records of—it shouldn’t have been possible. 

And yet, it was. 

_Extraordinary._

Morro left the hotel room with a hiking backpack full of supplies and a coat, setting off into the unknown.

—

Bitter winds scraped the rocks, and the longer he walked, the more a chill set into the air. He was far enough along that he could no longer see the town he’d been staying at. He couldn’t see any life, actually, save for a couple scraggly weeds and bushes growing out of the short mountainside. “Short” for a mountain still meant “incredibly difficult walk”, and Morro was growing tired. He pushed onward, determined to get to shelter before the sun set. 

The sky was fading into deep blues and purple when he came across a cave. He set up a tiny one person tent at the entrance, lit a handheld electrical lantern, and cozied up in his sleeping bag for the night. 

Around 8 hours later Morro woke up, and immediately felt something was wrong. The air inside the tent was warm and stuffy, having been trapped in there for some hours, but it was _outside_ that worried him. As soon as the zipper was zipped down a tiny bit, a blast of cold wind whipped his face, and Morro immediately zipped up the tent again, frowning. That was weird. 

That was _worrying_.

Weather in this area was never supposed to get that cold! What’s going on? 

Well, good thing he brought along some extra layers. The space was cramped, but he managed to slip on an undershirt, put on gloves, and wrap a scarf around his head to insulate his neck. Feeling a bit more protected from the cold, he stepped out of the tent, and gasped. 

Snow. Big, gentle flakes that floated down from a grey sky. He watched, shocked, as another gust swept across the face of the mountain, kicking up the fallen snow and twirling the frozen crystals still in the air. 

“What the hell?”

Well, it was too late to turn back. Trying to go back now would surely mean slipping on ice and falling to a bloody death. Morro shuddered, half at that thought and half because of the freezing temperatures, and packed his things. He’d have to leave a few things behind, since there was no way he could carry heavy luggage through this cold. Conserving energy was key. 

Anyone smart would say, “Why not just wait the storm out?”

But he didn’t trust that it would get better. Hopefully, the other side of the mountain range would protect him from the arctic winds, breaking their journey and, with them, the snowstorm. Morro elected to leave behind the tent, but after he was done eating a snack and drinking some water. 

He left the cave, anxiety swirling in his gut at the sight of an endlessly grey sky and the startling amounts of snow that obscured his vision. He couldn’t even see the flat ground anymore. Taking a deep breath of the fresh frozen air, Morro set off once more on his journey.

It only got colder.

And colder and colder.

It was when he hit his foot on a rock and _didn’t feel the expected pain_ that Morro started to worry. He hadn’t even realized how numb his toes had gotten.

His hands, too, now that he thought about it, lifting his arm up to shield his face from an especially harsh wind. A powerful shiver wracked his body, providing only a brief warmth in his limbs before that ever-present chill came back. 

Morro knew he had to move faster. He knew he had to get out of the cold immediately, but his legs refused to move. He stumbled, leaning against a rock that was as cold as ice as he briefly lost his balance. “Oh, god,” he whispered. “God, I’m going to die.” 

Icy wind scorched his lungs, and he slid down to a sitting position, curling up in a last attempt to conserve heat. He couldn’t feel his hands or feet, and other parts of his body were starting to tingle, that uncomfortable pins and needles sensation playing across his nerves. Morro was aware that the snow continued to fall harder and harder, and that it was currently burying him alive, but he wasn’t able to do anything about it. 

Fog settled over his mind slowly, thoughts and outside stimulus registering belatedly. 

First was the thought that the snow was kind of warm.

Second was the thought that he’d failed, and Wu was right. He shouldn’t have gone looking for the tomb alone. He was going to die. 

Third was the thought that the snow was kind of _hot_.

Fourth, he ripped off his gloves, and noted distantly that his fingers were discoloured and he couldn’t feel them at all. A voice in the back of his head screamed that that was frostbite, and the tissue there was dying. Skin isn’t supposed to look grey. 

The cloud in his brain didn’t care. The cloud wanted him to sleep.

Morro laughed, realizing how stupid he was to not bring help, to not even tell anyone where he was. Now, this mountain was going to be his tomb, and someone would come looking for him just like he was looking for the king.

“Call me the king of stupid decisions!” Delirious, Morro yelled above the screaming storm. “Call me the king of this painful fucking wind! This entire mountain is my tomb. I— I’m buried underwater too.” He cackled. “ _Frozen_ water, that’s my— that’s where I’m...” 

Wherever that trail of thought was going, he lost hold of it, and let his mouth fall shut as he glared at the snow around him. 

“Why is it so warm?” he muttered, wriggling to take off his jacket. His movements were stiff and uncoordinated, but desperation urged him on until he managed to free himself from the jacket. Then it was the scarf. Then it was his top shirt.

As his numb fingers grasped the hem of the undershirt, preparing to tear that off too, Morro paused.

Squinting through snowflake-covered eyelashes, he thought he saw…

Something. Something standing there, covered by the snow. 

...No, someone. Someone, who was walking towards him. Morro’s heart beat erratically in a last attempt to get him to move, to keep his body warm, to not die. If he could call out right now, maybe the person would save him. At the same time, he was so tired. So very, very tired. Stubbornly, his jaw refused to open.

Morro’s eyelids shut, just before he caught a glimpse of two glowing blue dots, getting closer and closer. 

The world grew dark.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOF the pacing is so quick! feel free to point out if there's any particular scene that feels too short or too long or needs rewriting.
> 
> jeez, i need an editor... lmao

The world faded back into existence slowly. Morro opened his eyes, cringing at the bright light that assaulted his retinas. “Wh’r’m I?” he slurred. Weakly, he sat up.

“Oh, you’re awake,” a calm voice said. “How are you feeling?”

He took a moment to focus on his body. “Quite honestly… terrible.”

“But it’s better than being dead.”

Morro sat still for a moment, just thinking. It occurred to him that he still didn’t know where he was. It also occurred to him that he had no idea who he was talking to. He glanced around the room, shock setting in. Ice. Ice, and more ice. Ice walls. Ice house? What the hell?

And ice person.

Well, not really. But the immaculate figure that stood beside him—patiently waiting for him to recuperate—had hair as white as snow. Frost crept across his flawless skin, adorned with beautiful clothes that seemed to defy gravity, gently swaying in a slow-motion wind that didn’t exist. He looked down at the human with kind blue eyes that glowed ethereally in the dim light. 

Morro jumped backwards, falling off the makeshift bed—snow? snow bed?—he’d been put on, landing hard on the rocky floor with a grunt. “What the fuck, what the _fuck,_ ” he whispered to himself, trying to stand up but falling down again. “Where am I? Who are you?! What happened??”

Those kind blue eyes creased with worry, and the figure seemed hesitant to come closer. “I found you, near death, out in the mountains. I brought you here to help you get better. My name is Zane.”

“Well, Zane, where is ‘here’?” He looked around again. “It’s ice. Everything is ice. Why am I sitting in a house made of ice?”

“Palace, actually.”

Morro stared at him, trying to see if he was lying. He wasn’t.

...He also seemed unbothered by the fact that there was frost on his skin, and whose stunning eyes glowed blue, which should’ve been impossible. “Who _are_ you?”

That question worried Zane more. “Oh no, short term memory loss.” He sighed. “Do you remember hitting your head?” 

“No, I didn’t hit my head!” The archaeologist paused. “Although, that would explain some things. Maybe I’m dreaming. Maybe I’m hallucinating, and I’m actually still out there, freezing to death in the cold. Did I die? Am I a ghost?”

“You are not a ghost.”

“Then explain to me, please, why I’m currently sitting in a palace made of ice, talking to someone who looks like some magical emperor from right out of a high fantasy movie?!”

“I am the God of Winter,” Zane explained. “And this is my home. As I said earlier, I found you dying out there while I was on my way to the Midsummer Festival, so I brought you here to help you recover.”

Morro laughed dryly. “Great. I lost it. How long until my brain finally gives up? What is it, seven minutes or something? I should be dying any minute now. Figures. Some stupid kid having stupid delusions. This is what I get for trying to impress everyone, I guess. How wonderful.”

Zane finally gave in to that caring instinct and walked over to Morro, holding out his hand. Morro took it, cringing at the spike of pain when he touched the man’s ice-cold skin, and allowed himself to be lifted up and set back down on the makeshift hospital bed. “I don’t see why trying to impress everyone would warrant your death,” the so-called Winter God murmured, picking up the blanket that had fallen off when Morro did, and putting it back around his shoulders.

Pulling the cozy wool tighter around him, he looked down, shrugging. Morro didn’t know how to explain where that line of thought came from, only that it simply felt like a given. This is what he gets for shooting for the stars, for being so arrogant, thinking he alone could somehow succeed where countless had failed; this was fair punishment for being so selfish as to want _all_ the attention on him, _all_ the glory. _Everything_. 

Or maybe Morro just wanted to make Wu proud of his useless adopted son.

The silence stretched on awkwardly. “So. You’re really a god?”

“Yes,” Zane responded, holding up a hand and conjuring a swirling mass of ice in. “As far as I know, most people I come across cannot do this.” The frozen water dissipated. 

“You don’t know that. I could be a god if I wanted to,” Morro joked, attempting a smile. “What if I’m some long lost baby god? You can’t disprove it.”

Zane laughed softly, a sound as delicate and pretty as the crystals he held power over. It made Morro’s heart stutter. “I _do_ recall you yelling something about being the ‘King of Wind’ when I came across you earlier.” He picked something up and handed it to the human.

Morro took the cup, inhaling the steam off the hot tea and basking in the pleasant warmth it radiated. He frowned, embarrassed by the thought—it’s not really the best impression to make. “Really? I don’t remember saying that. I remember collapsing, but everything after that is a blur.” The fact that he seriously could have died formed a heavy pit in his stomach. Nobody would have known where he was. His friends and family would forever be haunted by the fact that one day he disappeared into thin air, and never came back. “Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

“You are welcome.” The god sat down next to Morro, watching him closely. “Are you feeling completely better?”

“My skin isn’t grey anymore, so I’m gonna say that yeah, I’m feeling a lot better.” His extremities still hurt, but that wasn’t a bad sign. Pain meant the flesh wasn’t dead. Pain meant healing. 

Zane nodded. “Good.” He fell silent, and Morro could tell that something was wrong. The god was tense, maybe even a little nervous. 

“Is there… something else you want to say?”

“Yes, actually, there is: What were you doing out here? It’s too dangerous for someone like you.”

“I was looking for something.”

“Alone?”

Morro rolled his eyes. “Yes, alone. Why do you care?”

“It is my duty to protect life as best I can. My element is not a kind one. It is harsh, and… and sometimes I cause blizzards without meaning to… which means that if you died, your blood would have been on my hands. I don’t want to hurt anyone!”

“Oh, so _you’re_ responsible for that freak weather?” 

Guilt clung to the air around him heavily. “Yes,” Zane bit out, curtly. “I was speaking to someone. An associate, Fire… _angered_ me, to put it lightly.”

“Huh.” Morro coughed. It kept getting awkwardly quiet. “Alright, well, if you don’t mind I have to get going. Like I said, there’s something I’m searching for, and the sooner I get there the better.” This time he managed to stand up and _stay_ standing, even if his feet hurt, although he wasn’t about to admit that.

“Wait!” Zane grabbed his arm. “You are in no condition to go alone. I won’t let you. Wherever it is, let me accompany you until you arrive at your destination.”

Morro turned back to the god, suddenly realizing exactly how tall he was with them both standing next to each other. “Um. Okay. Do you know where a certain ancient burial site might be located?”

A peculiar wariness clouded Zane's demeanor. "I know which one you speak of."

—

And that was how Morro found himself hiking with an actual, real life _deity_. It was a pleasant walk, all things considered.

Zane was fun to talk to, even if he used overly formal language and didn’t understand all the slang. And, if Morro was being honest, he was quite an impressive companion. Graceful body, beautiful in an unusual way, just like a snowflake; but he was powerful and strong like the ice he controlled. Morro found himself staring more often than he’d like to admit.

He was getting tired, though. “Isn’t there some way you could, I don’t know, teleport us there?”

“Mortals do not survive teleportation. Your body cannot handle it.”

“That sucks.”

Zane paused, a metaphorical lightbulb turning on as an idea stuck him. “Are you afraid of dragons?”

“...No?”

“Step back.” He pushed Morro behind him, held out his hands, and concentrated. A white-blue glow enveloped his body, and in front of him the leftover snow started to move, swirling and condensing into shape. Morro watched, fascinated, as it magically coalesced and was given life.

The glow faded, the swirling curtain of snow fell to the ground, and there stood a... well, there stood an elemental dragon, glimmering in the weak sunlight. “Wow,” Morro breathed, hesitantly walking closer. “This is amazing. You’re amazing. I have never wanted to be a god so much before. You guys get dragons?”

Zane’s cheeks tinted blue. “Thank you,” he smiled. 

Morro held out his hand, laughing when the dragon immediately pressed its nose into his palm, a rumbling purr coming from within its throat like it was a giant cat instead of a potentially dangerous overgrown lizard. “It’s just so…”

“Cool?” 

“No,” Morro groaned. “Never mind, I take it back. You are not amazing, you are stupid, and that was the worst thing I’ve heard in my entire life.” He stroked the dragon’s neck, stage-whispering: “C’mon, let’s ditch him, alright? Let’s leave him here so he can make horrible puns for all eternity, and I won’t have to listen to them.”

The god laughed that pretty laugh again, and Morro was glad he was facing away so his blush wasn’t visible. 

“Hop on; it won’t bite.” Zane proceeded to help Morro onto the dragon, and then got on himself, instructing Morro to hold onto his waist. “The take off is wobbly,” he explained. “You might fall off if you don’t hold on tight.”

Morro did as he was told, lightly wrapping his arms around Zane’s waist. He was glad he was given an extra coat and gloves earlier, because Zane’s body emanated cold. It wasn’t dangerously cold like the blizzard, but it was still a lower temperature than Morro preferred. 

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

He wasn’t kidding about the take off being wobbly. The dragon shot off into the sky, and Morro almost immediately fell off, but his grip tightened instinctively and he found himself burying his face in Zane’s neck to avoid the vicious winds. 

And then the dragon dropped. Morro screamed.

It flapped its wings again, and shot into the sky, dropping through the air with each upstroke, shooting forwards and up with each downstroke, and holy shit, Morro was about to be sick. Amusement park rides had nothing on this. And to think he thought that rollercoaster was scary! 

He groaned, curling around Zane tighter until the flight evened out, the dragon gaining a steady balance in the air, riding an invisible current. 

“Are you alright?”

“My stomach is literally in my throat, but yeah, I’m great.” 

A few gentle breezes whispered over the two, and it felt… right—it felt _calming_ to be up in the air, feeling the wind across his skin. 

—

In a matter of minutes, the two had crossed over the peak of the mountains, and reached the other side of the range. A giant lake glittered only a few miles away, and with how quickly the dragon was moving through the sky, it would barely take any time to get there. Morro tapped Zane’s shoulder and pointed in the direction of where the tomb should be located. “It’s closest to that bank,” he informed. “Underwater caves and all that.”

In turn, Zane leaned over and whispered something to the dragon, who turned in a gentle arc, and promptly dived. 

Morro found himself screaming again, holding on to the Winter God for dear life. 

At what could’ve been the last second before they crashed, the dragon’s wings spread out again, abruptly stopping the free fall with a jolt that nearly had Morro tumbling off its side, scrambling for purchase on its scales. Zane quickly pulled him back on, this time situated between his legs to prevent him from falling again. “I’m so sorry,” he gushed. “I didn’t know she’d do that. I’m sorry, I won’t let it happen again, I—”

“It’s fine,” Morro reassured, despite feeling so shaken up. His heart pounded in his chest, and he ever-so-slightly leaned back, comforted by the almost-hug Zane was giving him. 

The landing was as bumpy as expected, and Morro wasted no time jumping to the ground, half-inclined to cry with relief. “I’m alive,” he cheered, falling to his knees in the rough sand. “Oh my god, I’m alive.”

Zane told the dragon to go back to the mountains, watching as it took off, leaving a powerful gust of wind in its wake. “That you are,” he mumbled, just a bit paler than usual. 

“Can’t believe I almost died twice. It’s been what, a day? Twenty-four hours? My life’s insane.” Morro laughed, more out of disbelief than anything. “I think I’m gonna write a biography. It’ll be a bestseller for sure.”

“You can do that after you get back home safely,” Zane said, walking to the glittering water’s edge. He kneeled down, and it froze up in his presence. “Which won’t happen until you find the tomb.” 

“Correct.” 

“Technically, I said I’d only accompany you until we reached your destination, but this place is too dangerous to leave you alone in. I was here when the tomb was built; I know the answers to its puzzles, I know its traps, and I know where the powerful treasure you are looking for is located.”

“What powerful treasure?” Morro's eyes shifted to look at the water, straining to see past the reflective surface and into the depths below. “All I wanted was to find the tomb. The things inside it are just… bonuses, I guess.”

Curiosity and surprise shone in Zane's eyes. “This place is a fortress built to protect not just the king’s body, but an artefact as well. Haven’t you wondered how he managed to build a giant empire within his lifetime?”

“The history books say he was a great tactician, and that his empire actually expanded over the course of his _and_ his two sons' lives.”

The Winter God shook his head. “That is not the complete truth. Do the words _'Realm Crystal'_ ring any bells?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't mean for a plot to happen but this storyline forcefully took the wheel and started driving on its own
> 
> like i swear the words wrote themselves and what was supposed to be one chapter broken into two parts now has the potential to be a multi-chaptered fic
> 
> oops


End file.
